Spirit Warriors


In times like these the world needs your intercession more than ever to balance her. #Covid19 is here. #SpiritualEnergiesUnite #SpiritWarrior

May those who can find the courage to help and intercede with and for others. #lettheworkbegin

Earth crys

Marriage and Parenting

A couple of months ago, I sat in church, the priest, at the beginning of his sermon asked all couples to sit next to each other, there was little movement in the church as those involved in ministries found their spouses.

Then he said, “take the children from between you and sit next to each other.”

There was a pause and then more movement. My husband and I hadn’t considered that we weren’t sitting next to each other, even though our child sat between us. That was how the family sat, which is also cognizant of our relationship, we protect and enclose, it’s a tag team, she’s under the umbrella and we each support a side. There is so much of parenting in marriage that at times every thing just blurs together. For many couples marriage and parenting go side by side, it’s unthinkable to take the children out of the circle and see marriage as a unit and parenting as another unit.

The truth is, most days I can’t remember a sermon past that very day, okay maybe that very hour, my mind strays on writing – possible stories and characters – and because I crave new ideas and points of view in religion (an oxymoron, I know) but this simple sermon shook me.

It also brought to mind an unforgettable debate I heard via talk radio as I travelled to work years ago. The question was, if you had to choose between your husband/wife and your child, which one would you choose? The responses overwhelmingly favored the child. It was a hot topic, the maxi was buzzing and at the time I too felt it abnormal not to choose your child. Those who called and tried to put marriage first, were shot down quickly as fanatics. Fast forward to 2020, I am convinced that the best gift I can give to my child is to focus and cherish the relationship with her father, and ‘vice versa’ the best gift he can give to her, is to love her mother. Nevertheless, knowing that as an ideal and putting it into practice every day is no small task.

I am in the process of teaching myself that I don’t just support the umbrella, my husband and I are the umbrella. When we take the time to focus on us, we provide the foundation our children need to grow and make decisions of their own.

The unspoken truth with marriage and parenting is that the two takes work and time, and sometimes couples, mostly women, decide that there is just room to focus on one. Parenting is listed as number four in the most common reasons for divorce in an article by Shellie Warren on Marriage.com. Couples list constant arguing, from bickering about chores to arguing about kids all the time. Your household can become toxic quickly, as children grow their needs keep growing and you keep working towards those needs for them. Marriage goals are quickly pushed aside, that dinner for two, that retreat, understandably so, your focus is now on supporting and guiding another human being, which is the work of God. Yet, as you focus on parenting you must remember that parenting and marriage is not the same thing.

You can be winning in one area and failing miserably in the other. My hope in 2020 is for balance, discernment, grace and might I say mercy in marriages. Take time to develop your relationship, and this doesn’t even mean plenty alone time. It means making decisions together and planning together. So that the tag-team does not disappear, it just realigns to focus on keeping the marriage foundation strong as you continue to build all areas of your life together.

I read that for Christians, marriage is a Sacrament (ritual regarded as imparting divine grace) and is considered a public statement about God: the loving union of husband and wife speaks of family values and also God’s values. However, there is no corresponding Sacrament when you become a parent, even though we hold the birth of our children dearly, they do not come with the type of expectation that marriage in the Lord does. This a valid point that I never really thought about, is it marriage first, then children or do you put your children first, then focus on your marriage. For those who have the golden solution to balancing both please share with us.

In the meanwhile I admonish couples to think about your marriage as highly as you think about being a parent and yes think highly about being a parent. The same way you move heaven and earth at times for your children, you should also for a spouse. Your relationship with your spouse matters to God and your children. There are instances of abuse and life and death neglect, no one is expecting you to stay and endure to your detriment. There are avenues for you to get help please use them.

As we balance marriage and parenting, we also need to remember that we are also children and we must never make it our duty to get between our parents. So many adults are guilty of this. When the priest was finished talking to the parents he reminded the children the first commandment with a promise speaks to children – “Honor thy mother and father and thy days will be long.” He then admonished them not to get between their parents.

Some people are missing out on blessings because of the way they treat their parents. In addition, some people will honor their mother alone and never make peace with their father or the other way around. So does that mean you get half of your blessings? As grown children we also need to make peace with our parents and move on, they did what they could, you are alive and you take it from there.

As I close, I wish for you to parent differently in marriages in 2020.

May your families be blessed and your journey be filled with mercy and grace for you, your spouse and children.

Empress_Expressions 2020

Copyright Marsha Gomes-Mckie

A sexy, wicked read

BUY NOW

I literally cackled when i thought of writing this book, and as i wrote, i laughed. I laughed so much i had to stop and breathe, was i going to far? was it far enough? Oh, how i felt wicked and loved it.

So i introduce to you “Valentine’s Sweet Cuts” with a grin. It’s live on Amazon and will be free all day today.

Excerpt
“She opened the door in a hurry and just grumbled.
Hunter looked around the room as the blur of her curly hair and sensuous hips entered the open bathroom. Clothes were everywhere, she was in her two piece bikini that was reserved for special occasions but he knew unlike Malia she was looking for something to cover it up until she reached the pool.
Hunter peeped in the bathroom to find Meghan sitting on a closed toilet shaving a leg with one of those disposable shavers, he knew she hated.
She picked the electric shaver off the ground and shook it.
“It died in mid-shave,” she accused and pointed to her bikini area before she dropped it. “Malia waxes, which gives me hives so I couldn’t borrow anything she has, so I had to go to the Quickstore and they only had these,” she explained.
Hunter watched the open pack of shavers and said nothing.
Meghan was short, small perfect breasts, wide hips with plenty ass. Her hair was always natural and curly and she wore little makeup. He liked it that way as he liked to play with her face and roll his fingers through her hair. He loved this woman, and grinned at her as she carefully shaved her leg. She was even sexy on the toilet seat. He knew she hated to be late because she was on the student council and they were organizing the event.
Meghan continued until she jumped after being nicked by the shaver. She dropped the shaver and grabbed the toilet paper, ripping off a few bars and crumbling it quickly to put against her bleeding leg.
“Hey,” Hunter said softly, as he took the paper and held it against her leg.
He sat on the floor next to her, the toilet was cramped and he barely fit in the space. The cut was very small and after squeezing it for a few seconds the blood kept pumping.
Meghan was nearly in tears.
He looked at her in alarm, wondering if the cut hurt. It shouldn’t.
“It’s not that,” Meghan said slowly. “I am going to call the team and say I can’t make it. I still have to shave all down there and I can’t do it with this stupid razor.”
“Take a deep breath and calm down, you have to relax for this blood to stop pumping,” Hunter ordered.
Meghan huffed but she took the deep breath anyway.
“I can do it for you,” Hunter said firmly as the trickle of blood stopped.
“What? Call the team?” Meghan asked in confusion.
“Come on, you are looking at the best in town. I am at your service baby. Cutting hair is my magic,” Hunter said with the sweetest grin.
Meghan’s head flew back and hit the top of the toilet tank as she laughed. She pushed Hunter away as she got up and slumped down on her bed and rolled with laughter.
Hunter was serious.
He went and fetched his barber kit and plopped it down on the bed beside Meghan and opened it. She screamed and held his hands as he started going through his shavers.
“No,” she laughed. “You can’t do that; just imagining the position I need to be in, is making me embarrassed. I’ll have to be wide open.”
Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Yes doctor,” he joked. “May I remind you, I’ve seen you in that position many times already,” Hunter laughed while untangling his machine cord.
“I’ll be scared to death,” Meghan reasoned.
“I’ve never cut anyone, not once,” Hunter said firmly, “much less you, and your sweet pussy.”
Meghan blushed.
“What if it’s too sweet?” she asked, eyeing him coyly.
“I am a trained professional,” Hunter said with a smirk as he walked to the bathroom and started cleaning the machine blades with a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and a spare toothbrush from his case.
“Where has that been?” Meghan asked eyeing him and his shaver.
“This is my personal shaver,” Hunter answered. “It’s only ever touched my face, but I need to clean it since your face is even more delicate.”
Meghan hummed as she watched him clean the machine slowly.
“How do you know what to do?” Meghan asked quietly, her voice was asking so much more.
Hunter stopped. “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted. “But I will figure it out. We can figure it out together.”
Meghan smiled widely then bit her lips.
“So,” Hunter asked. “May I?”

 

Mrs Marshall mgomesmckie@gmail.com

Thoughts of Faith and Heaven

I have always felt that the Universe does not test my faith, my life is mostly uneventful, it instead seeks to expands it into realms where i have proven unwilling.

I do not always appreciate this intrusive expansion because by nature i am a hobo, i grow where i find myself and find a level of contentment that astounds, until i am ready to transition. Then i go without fuss and only stop when i am again contented. I do this mostly to trick the Universe into leaving me alone, because unwillingness and lack of growth alerts the spirits to your lack of fulfillment. Therefore, the Universe must intervene to teach you a lesson which builds character and all that jazz.  It’s the proverbial Mountain versus Valley philosophy where the mountain is your destiny while the valley is your trial. So by finding your own mountain and claiming it in peace, it sometimes holds karma at bay for a while.

The Universe passes by and says, “Aww nice, she’s handling her shit,” and leaves you be. It’s never indefinite though.

I have noticed that there are some people in life that everything happens to, everything bad that is. they are in a constant valley. They have a bad childhood, they have bad relationships, they encounter tragedy upon tragedy, there is no break for them. These people aren’t bad people, i feel like they have more heart that i do most days. Why does life give them lemons every day? Why? And as i ponder on it, i also ponder as to why the hell they don’t throw the lemons back at the Universe and tell the Universe to haul it’s ass and therein lies the answer to my question. Maybe the Universe is waiting to be told to haul it’s ass, maybe it’s pushing you, waiting to for you to push back and you never do.

So what’s going on there? I don’t know but I can tell you when my shift in mindset occurred.

I gave up Heaven.

Yeah you read correctly, heaven, it was too much. I spoke to God and said, it’s a nice ideal but it’s giving me a hernia. I can’t be myself and think constantly about getting to heaven, it’s either heaven is a gift, that’s automatically mine or leave me dead because I can’t do anything to deserve heaven. Even if i get 100 years on this earth, it’s not working out. If someone annoys me, before i even open my mouth, I’m trying to put a spell on you in my mind. I will light a candle for your ass, and call upon my ancestors, and then i remember Christianity, that turning the next cheek to slap thing. I was tired, God was tired. Our deal is this, heaven belongs to God, if I’m welcomed, I’ll accept the invitation, if I’m not what ever happens when i die, it’s okay. But until then, you mess with me and be sure that my inner obeah women will fly out. (LOL). 

So heaven is off of the agenda, i however treat people the way i want to be treated, i don’t pretend to like people (sorry), and i gave my best in everything i do. I gave everything, everyday and then i start over tomorrow.

So now faith works for me in an amazing and comfortable way. There is no expectation of ‘eternal’ so I just push myself to see how far i can go daily. There is just today, i keep my promises today, i gave my best today, and honor my family today, and i show up and gave my best today to the Universe today. Strangely enough i have found that the Universe is still planning more than today for me.  I am always surprised that connections i made twelve months or more in the past are lined up to assist me at the right time, today.

So the Universe throws me lemons, i either response or i don’t, if i get blessings, i either say thank you or no thank you. I feel like i finally have an adult relationship with the Universe and i can cope with that.

 

Empress_Expressions 2020

copyright: Marsha Gomes-Mckie

 

 

Elizabeth J Jones – A Dark Iris

A truly gripping read..

Critics May Lie

This is an official Caribbean Books Foundation review http://www.caribbeanbooks.org/

First post for the year, and it’s a review! If you noticed, there was no December Caribbean Books review. Apologies, but December of 2019 was seriously hectic and needed to chill.

But we are here once again reading Caribbean books and letting the world know what’s what about them. This month I’ll be reviewing A Dark Iris by Elizabeth J. Jones.

dark iris e-j-j

We’re visiting the isle of Bermuda this session, but not in recent times. Well, it kinda is recent. The story is based in 1972, it’s not like we’re talking 1872 here. That’s still pretty recent, right? Although when you consider that 1972 is just two years shy of fifty years ago… geez, it does kinda make me feel old.

Anyway. The story follows our young girl Rebekah, living on the island of Bermuda. Like any girl child of that…

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The birth of a story

This is how a story starts with me.

blank paper with pen and coffee cup on wood table

Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com

I wake up with a scene, just one scene. I’m not sure where in the book it belongs, just setting and character, no beginning or end. I don’t even know the genre sometimes, all I have is characters coming alive, pouring out of me on the paper. Most of the time the hero speaks first, but once the villain showed himself first.

Sometimes, after this birthing I sit and plot the story out, trying to make sense of it and other times I don’t find out what happens next unless I sit and write. My first full length novel, Lightning Fire – the Blue Moon’s Calling was like this, if I didn’t write, the story wouldn’t reveal itself. My brain only clicked when I wrote. I kept saying, what the hell! this is what happens. It was magical.

My manuscript SouCou Yant was the opposite, I have pages, upon pages of notes and research. I could not write without a plan in front of me. I digressed. I deleted entire chapters, it was dragged out of my subconscious daily.

I have come to prefer writing without planning but I don’t force myself, I adapt to what the story needs until I can write, The END

 

The story below was birthed today and may never move into being more than just two pages, I have to wait and see.

copyright 2020 marshagomesmckie

Untitled 

Delece surveyed her boss.

“This shit again,” she mumbled as she sat in the chair reserved for her to take notes. She took a deep breath but instead of frowning she smiled. Her dark eyes boring into him, inspecting him as if looking at him for the first time.

Her boss, the married Mr. Maco was legendary for his advances on female staff, she heard he’d been written up once but this was his uncle’s company so they just moved him to another division to start all over again, and his victims, well, no one wanted to work in this shitty job forever so most likely they moved on fast. Then, he hired another woman to be his assistant, it was her turn but she wasn’t a push-over, she needed the job, but not that much.

She drummed her nails and twitched her tongue as he sat there elated that maybe, she was actually considering his weekly preposition. This man had no same or sense at all. She nearly laughed as he waited for an answer. She remained calm as she said loud enough for anyone passing through the corridor next to his office to hear.

“I don’t have sex for money, I am not a whore,” she declared loudly, but before he could pretend that is not what he asked her, or shhh her, she continued. “I have sex for fun, so there maybe a possibility here but you have to be worth all the fuss. You can’t be no, one minute man with a semi-limp dick because I’ll laugh in your face. I don’t fake orgasm and I don’t scream your name if you don’t deserve it. Every thing depends on your performance, so you better know what you are getting into because I like to talk about my encounters.”

His eyes opened wide.

“To everyone,” she gestured at the wider office outside his closed door. “I’m not shy, so you’ll get a rating and they’ll all know.”

He cleared his throat and a small choking laugh came out.

“So, can you?” She asked sweetly.

He sat confused and uncomfortable, as he shifted papers on his desk. “Can I what Miss Darvince?”

Oh, so it was Miss Darvince now, well look how easy he remembered her last name and just so.

“Can you leave a girl impressed?” She said opening her folder to take notes, she didn’t even look at him, or wait for his answer because she knew the answer.

He was all talk, he wouldn’t please a woman if his life depended on it and it wasn’t because he couldn’t learn but he was a taker. He was the same way in the office lazy, unmannerly and selfish.

He didn’t answer and she didn’t bother to ask again, all he did was clear his throat again and again as he shifted papers on his desk.

She was glad he was now focusing on the work in front of him, she was sure he would give her a mountain of work to do but she didn’t care. She came to work which she was willing to do but she was never going to fuck his stupid ass.

There was a knock on the door and before Mr. Maco answered, it was already being opened. He looked up to dig into the person bold enough to open his door then got up quickly and sad, “Good Morning Lance, what are you doing here?”

Delece looked up as the man stopped right next to her and looked down. She swallowed, as their eyes connected, it was indeed a crime for a man to have such long beautiful eye-lashes.

He was positively amused at something as he surveyed her and introduced himself as Lance Moore, her boss’s cousin. She blinked, as in the Moore and Company that paid her salary every month, kind of Moore. She stood up and shook the hand he offered her.

He wore a smooth dark gray track suit with clean almost new white sneakers, his face was immaculately shaven less the thin mustache and square beard, his brown simmered as he smiled at her. She suddenly envisioned having this man lead her in a dance, he wasn’t taller than her by much, which meant she may tower over him if she wore heels but she would give up heels for him.

Mr. Maco was saying something but it wasn’t registering.

Lance grinned again, obviously tickled and then she realized to her horror that there was a possibility that he had over heard their indecent conversation.

Mr. Maco was crimson red as he spoke incessantly, asking question after question not giving his cousin anytime to even answer.

“I’m just here to check the performance on the division,” Lance finally said still looking at her. “Impress me, Junior. Impress me,” he said wickedly as he turned to his cousin.

Delece made her exit and slumped down into her chair and knocked her head softly three times on the wooden desk. She knew very well that one day her mouth would get her fired and she was praying that this wasn’t the day.

Junior Maco would have her head if he ever survived that meeting and the handsome Lance Moore, well he was out-of-bounds, wasn’t he?

copyright 2020 marshagomesmckie

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Various Authors – Sweet TNT Short Stories

Critics May Lie

This is an official Caribbean Books Foundation review http://www.caribbeanbooks.org/

Longevity is a good thing. It’s something every relationship, business, and organization strives towards. To be enshrined in society and successful for a long time. And not just for the sake of saying ‘we’re here’, but to create a real presence that can be remembered with good stories of your journey to tell.

After ten years of publishing monthly issues of Sweet TNT magazine, the Culturama Publishing Company has reached a milestone that many businesses only dream to get to. They are celebrating their tenth anniversary this year!

snoppy squad dance Congratulations!

To commemorate this event, they’ve released two books packed with the type of content that Sweet TNT magazine has become known for. One book was featured in our October Caribbean book review and this month we’ll review the other.

Sweet TNT Short Stories…

sweet tnt short stories River lime!

I love the cover. Although I’ve never…

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What Horror looks like to the wimp!

What Horror looks like to the Wimp! 

I love reading and I enjoy a good movie but I have a secret. Horror stories movies scare the hell out of me or put the hell into me. When I was a child or even at the young adult stage I could have covered it up as a normal pubescent quirk that you would grow out of.

Now I am a grown adult with offspring of my own so it’s hard to explain why my brain doesn’t understand the level of make believe or fantasy that came from another human’s brain into the arts to me. I internalize it. I dream about it and it remains in my psyche for weeks: crawling under my skin long after the television has been turned off and the book returned to its shelf.

So why care?

Well, I like to watch movies with my husband. When I choose a movie he muddles through it without complaining and I would like to return the favor. Instead of always screaming, “Oh my gosh, that’s what you want to watch,” or watching it and filching, squirming, complaining or pretending to fall asleep. Yep, i’m that kind of wife. It actually  took me a while to figure out that I need to watch a movie or read a book to the end so that I wouldn’t spend too much time imagining the different ways that it could end, so once I see it through I would only have one scenario to ponder and obsess over.

I still think Exorcist is very scary. You will understand why I broke my rule and didn’t finish it. I watched The Ring once, never again. Jaws still make me unsure when I put my foot in the ocean (and no I never go out swimming to far). Movies like SAW, Scream and the Texas Chain Saw Massacre is not on my watching or reading list. Silence of the Lamb was watchable and readable, Predator and even Se7en too. 28 Days later was strangely too much to bear. I may have been able to make Nightmare on Elm Street (all of them) but didn’t try. The Thing, crawling and gushing violently out, not on my list to watch again. I remember filching in the end when the last thing was a light. Thank you for a reprise. Final Destination seem eerie much like The Others. Dawn of the Dead, no I haven’t seen any. I didn’t watch Omen (children in Horror make me queasy) but I did watch IT, which I refer to as “Kiss me again fat boy.” If I had to pin point a show that started this entire psychosis it may actually be IT.

With the special effects of the twentieth century I abandoned horror altogether because it was becoming too realistic and my psyche just couldn’t endure. Much because is due to my overactive imagination (code for wimp).

When I became a parent I got caught up in the world of Disney and cartoons before I went back to grown up programming. The closest thing I get to horror these days is True Blood – the last season I watched was season four. Watching a crazy vampire flick makes me zone in on too many necks while I am in a normal conversation and at night, I am always looking for a sudden attack by a stranger or friend. So yes I abandoned that too and any other horror flick in between.

I have to say that Criminal Minds is wonderfully creepy and psychotic without having to commit to a Horror experience. So it got me to thinking. What if I wrote something creepy and eerie without delving into the being scared out of your wits realm?

I wanted to write something simple enough so I chose a haunted house, with a Romance genre. At first I thought of a couple moving into a haunted house and being provoked by a ghost but Beetle Juice did that already. So I opted to having the house stay haunted but let the male character be the ghost and love interest be the woman who moves in.

The task was to make it sexy without losing the eerie feeling you get when you think. What she’s crushing on a ghost?  Well crushing and a little bit more (wicked grin). After a couple of rewrites I found a back story that I was comfortable with, which made intimacy possible and I created a villain that I am proud of.

As I wrote I got braver. I kept saying to my fingers, you know it could be a little scarier for impact. Maybe the characters don’t have to be all good or bad. You can put in some ulterior motives and gave someone a dark side. My happy ending was also pulled apart as I needed to leave an eerie feeling with readers when they closed the book.

The more I wrote, the more I got comfortable with being true to the character even if it meant putting them at more risk. Which is what others writers do. If you have a Zombie character you can’t let him drink tea and discuss his feelings. He has to scare and evoke terror and maybe even bring the plague to thousands. As a writer with my new found bravery (it’s not bravery just yet but it feels good so I call it that). My New Horror Romance, The Ghost at 1 Cheshill Lane is a soft horror based in the Caribbean. It is available on Amazon but I feel inspired now to write something that can really be classified as a Horror.

I’m just kidding. I’ll write myself into a nightmare if I go further.

I hope you enjoy the book.

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J.L. Campbell – Don’t Get Mad… Get Even

Don’t get mad. Get even @jlcampbell #caribbeanbookmagic

Critics May Lie

This is an official Caribbean Books Foundation review http://www.caribbeanbooks.org/

The sun is out today again, after a series of heavy rainy days. Yes, the Caribbean is currently being pummelled by one tropical storm after another. Nothing new during this time of the year. Storms, rain, and floods for the Caribbean are like earthquakes are for Asia. It will happen. We will be hopelessly unprepared, but we will band together and get through it anyway.

That being said, hope things are sunny and well on your side of the world, and if not I hope you are cuddling up somewhere dry and warm looking for a book to read! And do I have one for you! This time from a Jamaican author (Jamaica! Wah gwaan?) J.L. Campbell’s book…

don't get mad get even

Don’t Get Mad… Get Even Vol 1

If some of you took the opportunity to read the Caribbean Romance Teaser Book 1

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Kimolisa Mings – Woman Defined

Critics May Lie

This is an official Caribbean Books Foundation review http://www.caribbeanbooks.org/

Hello loves.

After being sick for a week and very ambitiously starting back my exercise routine afterward anyway I’ve been feeling a bit low. Maybe it’s the rain, but I love the rain so maybe I just need to put the dumbbells down and chill.

Still, I felt I could handle something short and sweet. So this month I’ll be reviewing a book of poetry by Kimolisa Mings called Woman Defined.

k mings w defined

I’ve had this book in my Amazon reader for a long while. More than two years now!! I just never found the time to get to it, until now. So let’s start the review!

I don’t know much about the author’s background, other than that she is from Antigua. So I can’t say if any of these poems are about her personally. The collection of 11 poems follow an initial…

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